


Smuggling

by alafaye



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Advent, Gen, frost - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-18
Updated: 2011-12-18
Packaged: 2017-10-27 12:00:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/295631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alafaye/pseuds/alafaye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A simple missing person case turns up a smuggling ring who decide to get rid of Sherlock and John.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smuggling

**Author's Note:**

> Written for day eighteen of the advent challenge at the livejournal community of the same name. Prompt "frost".

John shuddered violently and swore. "I am going to kill you, Sherlock Holmes."

Sherlock didn't stir; he had lost consciousness a few moments ago. John tried to get his limbs to move so he wake Sherlock, but they wouldn't respond. He wondered dimly if it was because they were covered in a thin frost, but the doctor in him said it was hypothermia. As he, too, lost consciousness, he told both to shut up, they were making it difficult to sleep. And though the doctor said that it was a bad idea, John fell asleep.

His last thoughts were of the events that brought them there and how he was going to make Sherlock pay for leading them to this.

~~~

 _Four days earlier_

John watched Agatha Noble hail a cab and leave. He turned to Sherlock who was pacing and muttering. "Something was off."

"And badly if you noticed it right away," Sherlock said absently.

Though used to such thoughtless words, John frowned. "But what exactly was wrong?"

"She was telling the truth," Sherlock said. "As she knew it, anyway."

"Pupils were dilated and she couldn't stay still," John said. "Drugs?"

"Possibly."

John was silent as he thought over what Mrs. Noble had told them--that two days ago her jewelry had gone missing, her husband had turned up suddenly with a lot of money and then was gone. They had no money problems; in fact, despite the economy, the husband's store was doing very well. He and the other owner were the doing quite a lot of business. Mrs. Noble had thought it strange at first, but the security it brought was enough to dismiss her worries.

"Do you think that the other store owner has anything to do with it?" John asked.

"No, well, maybe," Sherlock said. "We have to find him."

Of course they did. John thought longingly of the plans he had made for that night--take away, catch up on some tele--and grabbed his coat. In moments, they were in a cab heading for the store.

"The other owner knows what's going on," Sherlock said. "I'm sure of it--Mrs. Noble said that he was unconcered about his partner's disappearance. Merely brushed away her concerns and went on running the store."

John nodded though he didn't know how Sherlock knew. The store wasn't far and was luckily open. Inside, there was only the person behind the counter--a middle aged man with thinning hair and well dressed. "Hello, feel free to look around, but we are closing in ten minutes."

"Likely because your partner won't be in to close the store at its usual time," Sherlock said.

The man's face clouded with confusion for only a second before it cleared. "Ah. Aggie told you, did she? Who are you then--the police? I told her that I'm sure Arthur will be around soon, no worries."

"Is it that his habit--to just leave for some time without warning? Even to his own wife?" Sherlock asked.

The man shrugged. "No, not really. But a man sometimes needs to do these things."

"Of course. I do have one last question, sir. How often do you get threatened by the locals?" Sherlock asked.

"The locals, sir?" the man asked.

"Yes, the Italians," Sherlock said. "I noticed several of them near here when I walked in."

"They're no trouble," the man said, waving his hand. John furrowed his eyebrows--there was something off there. He couldn't put his finger on it.

"Aren't they?" Sherlock nodded. "Thank you for your time. Come on, John."

Outside, Sherlock looked both ways before hailing a cab. He ushered John into it and they were off.

"Lieing," Sherlock said. "He was lieing about the locals. Even you could tell."

John nodded. "What about though?"

"They are giving him trouble," Sherlock said. "A lot of it, frankly. He runs an electronic business--there are one or two groups in London who are running an illegal trade in the same. But I could be wrong--I have to keep a clear head." He fell silent, hands pressed to each other and his lips.

John wondered what Sherlock was thinking, but as he knew Sherlock wouldn't say anything else, kept to himself.

~~~

The next day, Lestrade paid them a visit. He put a thick folder down on the coffee table and put his hands on his hips. "What have you got?"

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "I have a lot, Lestrade. Be specific."

"That electronic store," Lestrade said. "We've been watching it a while now. We suspect that there is some illegal items being traded through there and just when we notice something odd, you turn up. So let me have it--what have you got?"

"Nothing," Sherlock said.

"So you just decided to pay a visit there?" Lestrade said. "There is no such thing as coinicidence with you."

"One of the owners is missing," Sherlock said.

"We know, it's why were just taking a closer look." Lestrade opened the folder and pulled out a photo. "Him, right? Mr. Noble."

"His wife wants me to find him," Sherlock said.

Lestrade rubbed his face. "Is that it?"

"The other owner, the one who is still there, knows where Noble is," Sherlock admitted. "No, don't--if you drag him in, it'll only alert the bigger fish that you know something."

"This isn't a fishing trip!"

"Of course it is." Sherlock put on another patch and lay down on the couch. "I'll let you know when I have something."

"Right, yeah." Lestrade shook his head. "You won't--you're going to go swanning off on your own and I'll be pulling you out of the river. Again."

"John will make sure I don't end up in the river. You will, won't you, John?"

John muttered to himself and Lestrade sighed.

~~~

"Come along, John," Sherlock said a few days later. He'd been gone the last day and a half, no word. John had worried, but only a bit. Now, as usual, he was dragging John down the stairs. "I found a warehouse."

"There are several dozen warehouses in London," John reminded him. "Left over from what we call the industrial revolution."

"And this one has found a new use," Sherlock said. "Full of things that Lestrade and his team will want. I've phoned him, but had to leave a message--likely is trying to find the other missing owner. Neither owner will be found, of course."

John shook his head. "Why?"

"Dead," Sherlock said. "Noble by his partner's clumsy attempt and the other by the people he was working for." John, as usual, was not following. They were in a cab now, speeding toward the old docks. "Do you have your gun on you?"

"You ran me out so fast, I didn't have time to grab it."

"No matter. You're well trained in hand-to-hand and I'm skilled enough at boxing."

John hoped it wouldn't come to that. He knew that several of Sherlock's cases were better suited to penny dreadfuls, but for once, he would love nothing more than a case that resolved itself in a matter of hours and didn't create violence or involve people with violent histories. He wanted a case where all Sherlock had to do was point out the hidden compartment wherein one of two had hidden something and there, case solved.

Sherlock had the cab drop them off in front of a bagel shop and they walked the rest of the way. They wound their way through a maze of warehouses before they found the one that had Sherlock so excited. He held his hand up and John's steps silenced. They looked around the corner of another and watched as movers brought boxes into the warehouse.

"Smugglers," Sherlock muttered. "Have another warehouse in Japan and China where the electronics are built cheaply and then smuggle them into the country. Sell to store owners for more and collect the profit."

"What does this have to do with our client?" John asked.

"Noble's business partner found out that there was less paperwork and money buying it from these smugglers," Sherlock said. "But with the drop in the economy, even the good business, he got into debt with them."

"What does that have to do with Noble?" John pressed.

Sherlock hushed him and darted out. John swore and followed him. They darted in through a side door and John's mouth dropped at the pile of boxes stacked inside. "Bloody hell, so much for limited quantity at the stores."

"Useful," Sherlock said. "Frantic parents and relatives who worry that they weren't able to buy that electronic they promised and here is suddenly more. No questions asked--they're just relieved that there won't be any tantrums or fights."

John shook his head. "This could bring down the whole industry."

"If they wanted," Sherlock said. "It won't. If it did, their little smuggling business would be over and all the little perks they enjoy--like not paying taxes--disappears."

"Bloody hell."

They crept further in and then into an office. A portly fellow was behind a desk, looking over some papers. Without looking up, he said, "At last, Sherlock Holmes. I had wondered when I would see you."

"My reputation proceeds me," Sherlock said in surprise.

The man looked up with a smile. "London's underground knows about you. You're famous. Those of us who like to run a big business there know we'll eventually find you meddling and messing it up."

Sherlock smiled. "If only you would learn to not leave so many clues, there wouldn't be a problem."

The man laughed. "Oh, I don't think we'll have to worry anymore." He looked over their heads and nodded once.

John turned, but only half way--he was hit with something heavy and he lost consciousness.

~~~

"Wake up, John! Come on!"

John mumbled and tried to bat away whoever was tapping his cheek. His limbs, however, wouldn't move. He groaned feebly.

"Oh, thank god! He's alive!"

"What about Sherlock?"

John tried to focus, but it was difficult. His thoughts were sluggish and wouldn't focus. He tried to move his muscles again, but only heard what sounded like the cracking of ice.

"Breathing, but won't wake up."

"What were they thinking? We've got a severe cold streak coming up and they decide to jump in the river."

"Leave it. Go get the ambulance."

John decided it was too much work--the world went black again.

~~~

When he woke up next, he was looking at something white. As his senses woke up, he heard the steady beeping of machinery and his limbs woke up in protest, muscles screaming. He blinked several times.

"Finally."

Someone moved and John turned his head no matter how much it hurt. "Lestrade?" He coughed.

"You're lucky I decided to visit after my shift," Lestrade said. "Otherwise you'd be sitting here for sometime waiting for a nurse."

"W-what happened?" John wondered if there were ice chips he could have. They would feel amazing right now.

"Sherlock stumbled onto a smuggling ring," Lestrade said. "They decided to do the world a favor and take out you and Sherlock."

John processed that. There was something missing. "But what about Noble? The store?"

The nurse came in, stopping Lestrade from answering. John submitted to her tests and questions and wondered how long before he saw a doctor. Ice chips were delivered and John eagerly took them.

"What do you remember?" Lestrade asked.

"Sherlock said something about smuggling in electronics and how one of the store owners was buying them. He got into debt with them." John frowned. "How does that solve where Noble went? Sherlock said that it had to do with the other owner."

"They're both dead," Lestrade said. "Noble found out what his business partner was doing and rather than sell his business to the smugglers--they had offered to forgive all debt if they could come up with the money they owed or give them the business--he found the money. By selling everything he could, including his wife's jewelry. His business partner, however, thought Noble was going to go to the police and decided to kill Noble and take the money.

"Only Noble had put the money in a safebox until he could get it to the smugglers directly. So when the business partner couldn't give them the money and then because he couldn't give them the store without his partner's signature, the smugglers killed him."

John's head was spinning. "One day my life will not resemble a movie."

Lestrade laughed. "When Sherlock discovered the smugglers, he let me know, but still went in to stop them himself. To protect themselves and any other big time group operating in London, the smugglers decided to kill you and Sherlock."

John's memories were surfacing. "They knocked us out. I woke up as we were being tied up."

"We saw," Lestrade said. "We got there in time for that. They were going to drive you to the river some miles away and then dump you in. Instead, they just dropped you there by the warehouse." He frowned. "I'm not quite sure how you two ended up so far down river, though. The river isn't moving that fast."

John wasn't sure either, but he did remember freezing as they waited. "So that's it?"

Lestrade shrugged. "Pretty much. We did get those at the warehouse, but anyone on top, we missed."

"So there's a chance we'll run into them again." John sighed. "And I'm sure they'll just be as ready to kill us as they were now."

"Probably." Lestrade stood. "I'm going to check on Sherlock--see if he's awake. I'll let you know if he is."

~~~

"Just one last bit of business to finish up," Sherlock said. They were just out of the hospital--literally--and while John wanted to go home for a proper cup of tea, Sherlock dragged them in the opposite direction. "You remember there was something odd about Mrs. Noble?"

John frowned. "Of course."

"Even you should know this one," Sherlock said. They stopped in front of a building that housed five flats. Sherlock pressed the buzzer and it was answered in moments. "Ah, Mrs. Noble."

She drew in a shaky breath. "You found him?"

"Dead, I'm afraid," Sherlock said. "Though you knew that."

Her shoulders stifferened. "What?"

"The other owner," Sherlock said. "He told you."

She shook her head. "He didn't tell me anything."

"He came here, slightly bloody, asking you where your husband put the money," Sherlock said.

She sniffed. "He...may have."

"And you asked him why the money was important. He finally told you about the smugglers." Sherlock smirked. "And you decided to then sell the store so you could continue to enjoy the life you've become accustomed to."

"You can't prove it."

"The police can, however." Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "They'll be here in moments to arrest you--accessory to smuggling. And after your husband strived to keep you out of the whole business."

She slammed shut the door and Sherlock turned away. John sighed. "We can go home now?"

"For a bit," Sherlock said. "Then we're off to the country--my mother would like to meet you and it's Christmas."

John groaned.


End file.
